


when it feels like nothing else matter, will you put your arms around me?

by commonemergency



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anxiety, Heavy Phil POV, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, there's a happy ending i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 09:37:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20889986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commonemergency/pseuds/commonemergency
Summary: “Sorry.” Phil says.His father wraps his arms around him, and the embrace feels warm. It’s an embrace that he hasn’t felt in a long time. It’s like when he was a kid and something scary happened and his father just held him like nothing could ever hurt him because his father was there protecting him.“It’s okay.” His father quietly whispers into his hairline. “It’s okay.”He didn’t know how to tell him all the things that he wanted to say, like:I don’t know how to stop my thoughts from spiralling out of control. What if the medicine makes it worse? What do we do if things don’t get better? How do I live in a world that doesn’t have my dad in it?“Let’s just enjoy right now.” His father says, and he doesn’t let go of him.





	when it feels like nothing else matter, will you put your arms around me?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [intoapuddle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoapuddle/gifts).

> first things first, thank you so much to moody, julie, and kay for reading this and being the best cheerleaders. <3
> 
> second, this is a late birthday present for puddle ([@intoapuddle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoapuddle/pseuds/intoapuddle)) who is an amazing writer and a dear friend. i apologise that this fic is so late. (better late than never, yeah?) 
> 
> third, i feel like with most of my stories, it was meant to be 1k and then it slowly shifted into a tiny therapy session and then it got progressively longer and here we are. this was inspired by phil's 'draw my life' but also inspired by a time where i was my aunt's caretaker. i just wanted to try and convey those complex emotions as much as i could.
> 
> fourth, the title and the general theme for the fic is by ['delta'](https://open.spotify.com/track/39r3UkUOYMh9pPQmKSZnuE?si=EzY97N1kQEWZh3doYvrFNQ) from mumford & sons.

Sometimes, Phil thinks, the world is going to fall apart.  
Sometimes, Phil thinks, it already has and all he’s got left is these broken pieces. 

*

He has a distinct memory of this hill as a kid. It overlooks everything. The houses in the distance, the ocean crashing against the rocks, this is the hill that they used to roll down with their cousins. Their mothers would be so angry with them when they got back from their great adventure, because when you’re young and on the isle everything felt like an adventure. They didn’t know any better. 

He remembers throwing rocks with his brother to see how far they could go, Phil always lost because his aim was never that far, he just wanted to see if he could hear a plop in the ocean but it never came. It used to be a competition and Phil always seemed to lose. The loser had to be rolled down by the winner and it always ended with tears than it did with laughter. 

Phil looks back at those memories with a bittersweet feeling in his chest now. He had only ever won once. He thinks it’s because Martyn let him. He was too good at everything and Phil never really believed that he was lucky when it came to things like that. He savoured the memory anyway of looming over his big brother and then pushing him down the hill. 

Martyn laughed the entire time and Phil felt so bad that he helped him take the foxtails out of his clothes. 

They were banned from doing it when Phil was twelve, they had taken it too far, and Phil almost had a broken arm. It didn’t seem that bad now that he thought about it. Martyn had felt so bad and Phil milked that for all that it was worth. He let him play all the video games and let him win out of pity. 

Phil gulps now, his fingers smoothing over the rock, he throws it and it goes straight down, ricocheting off the mountain, hitting other rocks before Phil completely loses sight of it. 

He hears someone walking behind him. He’s surprised to see that it’s Martyn and he came alone. 

Martyn bends down and grabs a rock too, it’s jagged, and has life forming around it. Martyn cleans it off as best as he can and gets into such an angle before he throws it and they watch at how far the rock goes before it sinks into the water. 

Phil smiles briefly at it, thinking back to what a younger Phil might have done, maybe pushed his brother because it’s not fair that he got it on the first try. 

There were just some things that people were naturally good at and this wasn’t one of them for Phil. 

“I won’t roll you down the hill.” Martyn says with a small laugh. 

Phil looks over at his brother and rolls his eyes.

“I’m too muscular for you.” Phil says with a shrug.

It makes both of them snort after a moment of silence. 

“You’re right.” Martyn says, playing along, “I completely forgot that you bulked up from the last time I saw you.” 

It seemed that they were seeing each other a lot. 

Phil didn’t want to think about _why_. 

It hurt too much. It all hurt too much. 

“Yeah…” Phil says, gulping down the feeling as much as he can. 

Phil bends down to grab another rock, he keeps it in his pocket, flipping it over and over with his fingers just to give them something to do. 

“Where’s Cornelia?” Phil asks after a while. 

“Where’s Dan?” Martyn asks back. 

Phil looks over at his brother for a moment and his face falls. 

“Come on.” Martyn says, placing a hand on Phil’s shoulder. 

They’re walking more up the hill, Phil doesn’t know how much higher he can go because he’s scared but he’d never admit that. 

(He’s scared of a lot of things lately.)

“Where are we going?” Phil sighs. 

“Farther.” Martyn says, he doesn’t look behind to see if Phil’s following him. 

He must just believe that he wouldn’t lead him astray. 

“It’s getting foggy though.” Phil says squeezing the rock. 

“I know, that’s what makes it fun.” 

Phil laughs at that. “You and I have a very different definition of fun.”

“When was the last time you had fun, Phil?” 

Phil doesn’t really understand the question. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

Martyn starts jogging up the hill now, the view from below getting smaller and smaller. Phil tries to keep up with him but he’s not fit like his brother. He can’t just jog up mountains like it’s nothing. 

He’s out of breath when they reach the top. There’s nothing really beautiful up here, it’s just fog and bigger hills surrounding them. 

“It’s not a hard question.” Martyn says softly. 

Phil just breathes. He takes in all the air that he can get and he lets it out slowly. 

“I don’t know.” Phil says with a small shrug. “I haven’t exactly been free to do a whole lot of things.” His voice falls, his fingers gripping onto the rock like a lifeline. 

It’s hard to talk about. It’s hard to think about. It’s hard to be in the same room knowing that something could happen. Phil constantly felt like he’s going to fall apart and no one is going to be there to pick up the pieces because when he does fall apart it’ll be in silence. He’ll be alone. He doesn’t want other people to know what he’s feeling because he doesn’t want people to be worried about him. In comparison to what’s happening in their family he’s just a tiny little blimp. He feels the lump in his throat again and he’s trying so badly to choke that down. 

Martyn sees right through him and he knows it. They might not have always been close, when Martyn went off to university he barely saw him but they knew each other’s vulnerability. Martyn was there when he needed him the most. 

“Do you think isolating yourself is better?” 

Phil finds a patch of grass and sits down and Martyn sits across from him. 

“Sometimes.” Phil shrugs, he pulls his knees up and rests his chin. 

Martyn doesn’t say anything to that. 

Phil thinks of the early morning walks with his dad. He always tried to go with him on those walks because he asked and he didn’t want to say no to his dad. Normally he went with his mum but Phil just thought that maybe because he hadn’t seen Phil in a while it was their way to bond even if they didn’t say anything. 

He thinks of how his father would stop and take a picture on his phone and how a few hours later he would have a canvas out and try and mimic what he saw. They always came out beautiful. His dad used to say that it was always flawed, and that there were things that he wished he could change, but Phil never saw them. 

There’s a painting in their room now of this view when it’s not foggy. It feels like you’re on top of the world. Phil kind of felt like he was beneath it, crushed by things that he couldn’t understand. 

“Sometimes I dream about the world caving in and I’m the only one who knows it… Sometimes I just want it to swallow me up whole.” Phil’s voice is quiet, like if he spoke any louder then the world _would_ fall apart. 

Martyn reaches out and grabs Phil’s shaking hand. 

Phil’s first reaction is to pull away. 

“Does… Dan know what you’re feeling?” 

Dan. 

When Phil gets into this head like this he forgets that other people outside of the protective bubble he puts up exists. It’s not on purpose. It’s just easier to deal with things if you feel like you’re capable of going through it alone. 

“I think he’s trying to.” 

Martyn nods. 

“Cancer sucks.” Martyn sighs, he’s not even looking at Phil anymore. He’s look straight past him, into the fog like maybe if he looked hard enough he could see something worth viewing. 

Phil gulps. 

“Cancer sucks.” 

Martyn speaks up again. “We should head back.” 

Phil nods, getting up and brushing his pants off. 

“I’ll race you to the house.” Martyn says with a small smirk. 

Phil rolls his eyes, “You know you’ll win I don’t know why you—” and then, Phil pushes Martyn and runs for his fucking life down the steep hill, laughing at Martyn sputtering things and saying that he’s a cheater. 

It’s not long before Phil is out of breath again but they reach the bottom and Martyn is catching up to him and he pushes himself to finish, his hands reaching out for the door with Martyn coming in seconds later crashing into him. 

They’re laughing so hard their ribs hurt. 

It’s the first time Phil has genuinely laughed in months and he stores the memory away because he doesn’t want to forget how it felt. 

*

They’re at the hospital, they don’t _have_ to be here, they just feel like they _need_ to be here. Phil brought his computer to work on some emails that he wouldn’t normally do when he’s visiting home. His computer keeps popping up with text messages that he hasn’t replied to. Martyn is talking with their mum about all the nurses that have been so kind to them. 

“I think I’m going to bake them cookies. Want to help me with that?” His mum says, pinching Phil’s cheeks to get him to listen. 

Phil smiles briefly and nods. 

“Sure, mum.” 

Phil sighs, looking back at the numerous open tabs on his screen. His vision is blurring and all he wants to do is just sleep. 

There’s a drumming in his chest and in his veins that’s been a slow hum for a while but the more the day goes on the more painful it’s starting to get. He’s becoming more aware of it the more he sits here in this hospital. 

“I think I’m gonna go for a walk.” Phil says, closing his laptop.

He doesn’t know where he’s walking to, he didn’t want to go outside so he got in the lift and pressed a random number and got off. He follows the signs, pretending like he knows exactly where he’s going.

He stops in front of the nursery. 

He steps back and runs into a wall. 

More people seem to take the time to stop and observe the babies. Phil is finding it hard to breathe and he doesn’t know why. Maybe it's because they don’t know yet. They don’t know how cruel the world can be. They don’t know that one day they can wake up and just be sick without any reason as to why. They don’t know that love was such a strong emotion that sometimes felt like it was too much to contain, that it sometimes made you feel like exploding. They don’t know that love and fear sometimes go hand in hand. They don’t know what it’s like to love someone so much and to realise that one day they may just be… gone. 

He shakes his head, feeling something prickle at the corner of his eye. 

He wishes Dan were here. 

He wishes he didn’t tell Dan that he didn’t need to come. 

He wishes he could tell him how he was feeling now. 

Phil feels a tear run down his cheek and he stops it with his sleeve. He turns back around and hits the button to go back down. 

Phil types a quick, _miss you._ to Dan. 

He walks to the cafeteria now and gets snacks that he knows Martyn and his mum would appreciate. He knows that he should eat something but nothing looked appetising. His mum was going to make a roast dinner tonight. He’s telling himself that he’s just making room for that when he knows that he probably wouldn’t be able to keep anything down. 

When he gets back to Martyn and his mum they’re watching something on the iPad and he smiles at them giving them their treats and gets his computer out again. He plugs his earbuds in and goes to the Spotify account that belongs to Dan and clicks on one of his playlists. 

If Phil couldn’t be close to him physically, this was the next best thing. 

He leans back in the chair and gets back to his emails. 

A new message pops up on his computer. 

_i miss you too. didn’t sleep well last night. i also ordered too much food and had a food baby. just didn’t feel right to do the whale noises without you._

Phil gulps reading the message. 

Last night he could barely eat his food knowing what this morning would bring. He takes small deep breaths. 

Phil closes his laptop again and listens to the playlists on his phone and rests his head against his mum’s shoulders and tries to follow along to what they’re watching but he drifts off eventually. 

He gets woken up an hour later by his mum. 

“Your father is finished. I’m going to pull up the car,” His mum smooths Phil’s hair out with a small smile. 

Phil quickly gets all of his things together and waits next to Martyn for their dad to come out. The anxiety spikes, it’s like he’s afraid that his dad will crumble in front of him at any given moment. He sees someone open the door for his dad and he waves to the boys with a small smile but Phil can tell that he’s tired. 

“Hey dad.” Phil smiles, grabbing his dad’s bag of things to carry for him. 

“How are you feeling?” Martyn asks, his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Oh, I’m fine. Just tired.” Their dad places a hand on both of their backs. 

The doors slide open and their mum is waiting for them.

They don’t speak much the car ride home. His dad falls asleep on the couch, Phil puts a blanket on him and goes to his guest bedroom and curls up into a ball underneath all the blankets. He felt so cold. 

He grabs his phone and types a message. 

_I haven’t slept well in so long I don’t know if I’m even sleeping at all. My mum is making a roast tonight. If I eat too much I’ll save the whale noises to do with you._

He types, _I wish you were here_, before backspacing. 

Phil sends the first message and falls asleep.  
He doesn’t dream, and he’s grateful. 

*

Phil can hear the telly and there’s a fire, with the roast almost done, and it feels like the days leading up to Christmas. He sits next to his dad on the couch and his dad looks over at him with another tired smile and reaches out to mess with Phil’s hair. 

It’s a rerun of a show that Phil never bothered to watch when he was younger but it always made his dad happy. He leans against his dad now, pulling his legs up and trying to make himself as small as possible. 

There were days when he was just a young and scared boy where he would watch television with his father while he wrestled with his thoughts about everything that terrified him. He remembers feeling so small and so insignificant, but watching television with his dad seemed to mute all the thoughts and all the worries because his dad had a great belly laugh and it somehow always made him feel like nothing could ever be that bad. 

His father’s laugh is weaker now, but Phil is just convincing himself it’s because of the chemo, once he’s better everything will return back to normal. He has to believe that. 

“Where’s Martyn?” Phil asks after an episode. 

“Oh, he’s talking to Cornelia outside on the phone.” His dad drapes an arm around Phil to pull him closer. 

His embrace is warm, and he tries to commit this to memory. He knows that in a couple of days he’ll be back home in London, a place that always felt like home but was starting to look like a stranger to him. 

“How’s Daniel doing?” His father asks with a bright grin. 

Phil feels like something is caught in his throat again. 

“He’s good. He’s just… he’s good.” Phil’s voice cracks. 

His father notices because of course he does. 

“Are you good?” 

Phil holds his breath. 

“I’m managing.” Phil tries to give him a smile. “I’m just a little overwhelmed with everything.” 

“I feel that way sometimes too.” His dad squeezes his shoulder. “Then I realise everything could be so much worse, and I think of everything you and your brother are doing and it just makes me happy to see both of you prospering and growing into the men you were meant to be.”

Phil feels like crying again. He holds it in, digging his fingers into the blanket. 

“Thanks, dad.” Phil reaches over and pats the side of his cheek like his father always used to do to him whenever he gave him a pep talk. His father laughs doing the same back to Phil. 

Martyn comes in not too long after. He sits down next to Phil on the couch. He looks lighter than he did at the hospital. 

Martyn looks at Phil and smiles at him. 

“Good conversation?” Phil asks. 

“Yeah, it was nice. It was needed.” Martyn pats his knee. 

“Dinners ready.” His mum pops her head into the living room and they all get up. 

His father sits at the head of the table, his mother right next to him and Martyn across from their mum. Phil sits next to Martyn and there’s two empty seats and he thinks about Dan, at home, sitting on their couch watching a television show by himself with his meal because he can’t stand a quiet flat. 

Dinner is like it normally is, it’s just there’s this invisible cloud that’s looming over them. Maybe it’s just coming from Phil but he feels a storm brewing and he doesn’t know what to do once it hits. He excuses himself after he’s finished half of his food. His mum says that she’ll wrap it up for him to have later if he gets hungry again. Phil grabs a jacket that he stole from Dan and walks outside. He starts the climb up the hill and hits the call button. 

It doesn’t take long for Dan to answer. 

“Hi.” Dan says, he sounds breathless. 

“Hi.” Phil says with a small smile. “Sorry, I know it’s…. I know I haven’t called since I’ve been here.” 

He can hear Dan move in the background. 

“That’s okay. I didn’t expect you to. How are things?” 

Phil bites down on his lip. 

“I don’t know Dan. I wish I had a better answer. I just…. I just feel like I’m going to fall apart. Or like the world is gonna end.” 

Phil can hear the waves violently crash against the rocks, and he remembers he still has the rock in his pocket. 

“I’m sorry Phil.” Dan lets out a long breath, “I wish I could take your anxiety away. I think it’s… I think it’s okay if you were to fall apart. You’re allowed to.” His voice is gentle and it feels like a warm hug on such a cold day. 

“The world isn’t going to end, but if it did I’d come and find you.” 

Phil feels like crying again. 

“When I go to bed later can I call you and just… to see if it helps me fall asleep?” 

He can hear Dan move again. “Of course. I just had some of your shitty instant coffee so I’m going to be up a while editing this video.” 

“Okay.” Phil says with a sigh. “I’m going to help my mum clean up. I’ll call you later.” 

“Okay.” Dan says, and then, “I love you.” 

It’s not that they don’t say it often, it’s just that it was the words that Phil needed to hear. 

“I love you too.” 

Phil hangs up the phone. 

*

He helps do the dishes. It used to be a game with him and Martyn, whoever could finish the fastest always got a chocolate. It was never Phil that won but his mum gave him a chocolate anyway. There’s not chocolate now, but he smiles at the memory anyway. This wasn’t even the same house that he grew up in. Everything was just a little bit different but the dynamic stayed the same. Martyn, maybe out of instinct, was hurrying through the dishes and splashing Phil with the water and soap when he could. 

“You’re a brat.” Phil says, grabbing his wet towel and whipping him with it. 

“I’m the brat? You’re the brat. And a cheater. A brat and a cheater.” Martyn laughs. 

Phil rolls his eyes but his cheeks hurt from smiling. 

“It’s nice to have you here.” His mother says coming up from behind them, grabbing her boys and squishing them together in a hug. She pats both of their cheeks and turns on the kettle. 

Phil puts the last few plates away and says goodnight to his dad who’s falling asleep on the couch. He has his iPad in his lap but he’s already gone into his dreamland. Phil still bends over and hugs his father anyway, committing his face to memory whenever he can. He doesn’t know why he does that. It’s just something that he feels like he needs to do. 

“Night dad.” Phil whispers. 

Phil gets ready for bed and gets under the unfamiliar, cold covers and plugs his phone in and calls Dan. 

Phil falls asleep to the sound of Dan breathing, it doesn’t take him that long to reach his own dreamland that night. 

*

He makes cookies with his mum. He never used to until he got older. He always loved and appreciated his mother but he didn’t want to always hang out with her. This was different now. They’re making over a hundred cookies, Phil’s not entirely sure if they’re all going to the hospital nurses or to some of the people in their neighbourhood but she’s given herself a project. She had gone to the arts and crafts store this morning and came back with a bunch of bags and ribbons. 

Phil is working on the dough, he’s drinking his second cup of coffee of the day. It’s nice giving his hands something to do but his mind keeps wandering. He eventually gets so tired of it he grabs the speakers that he bought his parents for Christmas and links it up to his phone and scrolls through Dan’s millions of playlists until he finds one with soft music. It’s the playlist Dan made when guests come over and they’re trying to show off that they know how to cook and can be moderately entertaining. He’s used this playlist many times when his parents would visit. 

His mother is sitting next to him and she’s humming along to the music, her hands rolling the dough into tiny little balls and placing them on the cookie sheet. Phil thinks that if Dan were here he would be arranging the cookies to make them just right. He grabs his phone and takes a picture and sends it to Dan showing him that he’s trying his best to get that perfect line. 

He looks at his mum every now and then and he wonders how she still has a smile on her face. How she can cope with everything that’s happening without falling apart. She’ll grab a little piece of the cookie dough and eat it lookingly slyly at Phil who shakes his head. 

“You’re a sneaky one mum.” Phil chuckles. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” She says with an innocent shrug. 

“This is kind of relaxing,” He admits, looking at the array of trays with different kinds of cookies. They had a little bit of everything. The house smelled amazing. 

“Isn’t it? I was baking a lot of cakes a couple weeks ago. Everyone in the neighbourhood got a cake.” She said with a small smile. 

“What do you do in London when you’re stressed?” she asks and Phil has to think on it. 

“I play video games with Dan. Sometimes we go on walks. Mostly I just….” his voice drops. 

A lot of the things he did to destress were with someone else. 

His mum seems to understand. 

“I love going on walks with your father.” His mum’s voice is quiet, and for the first time he feels like he’s seeing her for who she really is—she was his mother, but she was also a person that was scared to lose her husband. 

He watches the way that she stares down at the cookie dough, letting herself catch her breath before she looks back up at her son who looks almost exactly like her with little sprinkles of his father. She reaches out her cookie dough hand and taps on his nose and it leaves a smudge. 

“It is scary.” She says now grabbing the dough again and finishing up the last little bits. “But I’m optimistic. You should be too.” 

She gets up from her seat now and grabs the tray and brings it over to the oven. 

Phil gets up and washes his hands and leans against one of the counters. He turns the kettle on and he watches as his mother gets in her element again. It’s not hard for her to get lost in a project. It’s what she’s good at. Whenever it came to school things she gave it her all to help Phil and Martyn, and whenever Martyn would have a birthday party she made everything from scratch. It was just something she loved to do, and Phil loved her for it. 

“I think these cookies are cool now,” She touches one of them and picks it up to eat with a wink. “The perfect temperature.” 

She grabs the tray and brings it over to their table. 

“I’m thinking three cookies a bag, and you’ll want to tie it like this,” She shows him how to do the simple bow and he’s shaking his head already knowing he’s going to fuck it up somehow.

“Mum I can barely wrap presents and you expect me to make this look nice.” He says with a small laugh, watching how she does it again. 

She just laughs and reaches out to pat his cheek.

He eventually finds a rhythm. He gets used to it after a while, and it doesn’t seem so hard anymore. They finish pretty quickly and then grab the second tray of cookies and start again with Dan’s playlist in the background. If he closes his eyes for a second he can pretend that it’s the holidays and he’s just come down and the weather is cold but the house is warm, and his favourite cousin is in the other room with their partner talking about their travels with his dad and everyone can just coexist together in this small space. 

“I’m just anxious all the time now….” Phil says, staring down at the bags of cookies they’ve already wrapped up. “Like I’m waiting for the second shoe to drop.” 

His mother doesn’t stop, she just keeps going. 

“I used to feel that way in the beginning, but I just take it by day and if I can’t take it by day I take it by minute.” Kath reaches out to squeeze his hand. 

“Let’s finish this and make some tea and drink it outside with your father.” She gets up before he does, and she gets behind Phil and wraps her arms around him and Phil places a hand on top of her arms and leans into it. 

And then, she whispers, “You and your father are much braver than you think.” 

*

It’s a lovely night, they all four watch the sunset with hot mugs of tea. His father has a blanket draped around him and his mum. Phil has one of Dan’s sweatshirts on and his curled up in himself while they listen to the music that’s coming from the inside. It’s still the same playlist, Phil hadn’t turned it off. 

Martyn has his eyes closed, the strong wind blows through all of their hair and Phil feels so cold and so warm at the same time. Anxiety was an odd thing, he didn’t understand how he could feel so content but so terrified at the same time. 

Phil takes a picture of the sunset and sends it to Dan. 

His phone buzzes, he opens the message from Dan and it’s a picture from outside their window. It’s the same sunset, it’s just miles and miles away but somehow he feels connected. Like he’s here even though he’s not. 

*

Phil wakes up early, the light from the kitchen is on. He sees his father bundled up with a mug in his hand. He’s taking small sips from his mug, reading over the paper. He looks tired, but this was part of his routine. He thrived on routine. Phil just kind of wants to watch him exist for a while, but his father looks up from his paper and smiles. 

“There’s more coffee.” He nods towards the coffee machine and Phil smiles shuffling towards it, grabbing the mug that he always uses and pours an excessive amount of milk and sugar. 

Phil sits across from his father now, he watches him read the newspaper, chuckling at a ridiculous headline and talking out loud about a segment like he normally does. 

Phil smiles, he can’t help. 

“I think I’m going to go on my walk.” Nigel delicately folds the newspaper and sets it down in the middle of the table for his mum to read when she wakes up. 

“I’ll go with you.” Phil says getting up too, “Let me just grab a jacket.” 

His father nods, finishing the last of his coffee. 

Phil quickly gets ready and meets his dad outside. 

His dad smiles at him, and everything doesn’t feel so scary anymore. 

He was here. He was right here.

They walk up the steep hill slowly, his father stopping a couple times to take a picture. Every now and then he’ll warn Phil about an area that seemed a bit gravely, not wanting him to fall down the hill. Phil smiles at that, remembering when he was a kid and they all went for a walk with his extended family how much he used to trip over things because he just wanted to get to the top so bad. 

He remembers his father saying to just enjoy it while it was happening. 

He didn’t understand it then but he’s starting to now. 

When they reach the top he feels victorious. He’s climbed this hill many times before but somehow it feels like an accomplishment with his father by his side. They both take a few seconds to breathe and his father takes a picture of the view. 

The sunrise hits the water perfectly.

Phil snaps a picture too. 

“I think I’ll paint this afternoon.” His father says, taking a deep breath. 

“Can I paint with you?” Phil asks, he’s looking up at his dad now who’s lips curl up into a small smile. 

“I would love that.” 

It all hits him standing on top of this hill, this overwhelming feeling that he doesn’t know how to explain yet. He takes a deep breath before reaching out to wrap his arms around his dad. There’s guilt with the sadness and anxiety that he feels. He doesn’t know why he’s guilty—it’s just that he is. Guilty for not coming down more, (even though he came down a lot), guilty for not telling his dad he loved him enough. Guilty for pushing him away when he was a teen because of things that he was still understanding about himself. The guilt was everywhere in his body and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“Sorry.” Phil says. 

His father wraps his arms around him, and the embrace feels warm. It’s an embrace that he hasn’t felt in a long time. It’s like when he was a kid and something scary happened and his father just held him like nothing could ever hurt him because his father was there protecting him. 

“It’s okay.” His father quietly whispers into his hairline. “It’s okay.” 

He didn’t know how to tell him all the things that he wanted to say, like: _I don’t know how to stop my thoughts from spiralling out of control. What if the medicine makes it worse? What do we do if things don’t get better? How do I live in a world that doesn’t have my dad in it?_

“Let’s just enjoy right now.” His father says, and he doesn’t let go of him. 

*

His father has a studio, it’s a small room in the house, with white walls and it smells like paint and childhood to Phil. He used to paint outside but it was getting colder and he liked being able to talk with Kath throughout the day. 

Phil is sitting in front of his easel, he’s got his palette in his one hand and paint brush in another and he’s trying to figure out what to paint. His father is already at work on his, he’s got the picture propped up and he’s barely looking at it—once his dad gets a vision it’s hard to pull him away from it. He was artistic in ways that Phil wasn’t. If it was anything else he feel like he’d be great at it, he knew that he liked to sketch but it was different when you had a white canvas in front of you with no inspiration. 

He thinks hard, tapping his paintbrush against his thigh before he takes a deep breath. He gets his phone out and goes through his photos before he stumbles across an image that he feels like he could paint. 

He gets to work. 

It’s an hour in when his dad puts his stuff down to take a quick coffee break. He brings a mug in for Phil and looks over at his creation. He places a hand on his shoulder and tries to guess what he’s making. 

“It’s a corner of one of my favourite rooms.” Phil says with a small smile, grabbing his phone and showing him the picture.

It’s of Dan on the couch with his laptop and his feet are up, the fire is illuminating the room in his painting. He’s sad that he can’t paint Dan, he wouldn’t ever be able to match the beauty that just was Dan—he didn’t want to try. He does get the small details though. The socks that Phil left on the coffee table, the stack of DVD’s and other odd trinkets that Dan and Phil hoarded, he tries to get his own sofa crease just right next to Dan but he wasn’t the artist here. 

Phil can’t quite read his dad, but it’s a soft smile. Maybe remembering what it was like to be that age and in love with someone you know you were gonna spend the rest of your life with. Maybe he was smiling at the simplicity of it all. Their lounge was Phil’s favourite place to be because it always had Dan in it. But then again, he supposed, wherever Dan was it was his favourite place to be. 

“You miss him.” His father says, squeezing his shoulder. 

Phil feels like crying again. 

“I do.” 

It was hard wanting to be in two places at once, and it’s one of those times where he wished that he didn’t push Dan away because he really wanted him to be here. He’ll call him later. 

“I like it.” His dad says after taking a drink of his coffee. “I think he will too.” 

He watches his dad for a while, it’s hard to tear his eyes away. He liked watching people in their element and this was no different. His father had the same look that never changed when it came to his paintings. He was so silently passionate, and took his time with each stroke and put so much care and love into it. He sat there, eyes tracing over each intricate detail of the sunrise they saw earlier. Somehow, the painting was better than the actual thing. Maybe Phil was a little biased. 

Phil smiles, looking back to his painting. He doesn’t add much else to it. He felt like it was finished, so he takes a picture of it and plans on sending it to Dan later. 

They head to the kitchen and wash their hands and make food together. Kath and Martyn were in town running errands and wouldn’t be back for a while. Phil kind of liked having all this time with his dad to himself. He was learning to cherish the small things like drinking coffee with his dad, and making something as simple as a sandwich with him. 

His dad grabbed a book from his study and sat down and began to read while he ate. Phil tweeted out something random and would respond to it in a few minutes. He forgot that there were other people outside of this hole that buried himself in, forgot that the rest of the world seemed to keep on living as if his world wasn’t slowly falling apart. 

When they finish eating lunch his father goes to lay down because he’s feeling a little ill and tired and Phil goes to the guest bedroom and lays underneath the covers and completely cocoons himself. It’s not the same as Dan wrapping his arms around him, but it’s enough warmth to let him pretend so. 

Phil sends a message. 

_I had a really good and long day with my dad. We went on a little walk and he took pictures of the sunrise and we painted and drank coffee. It’s been a really long time since i’ve properly hung out with my dad and I just felt like falling apart. I feel like i’ve been close to falling apart for a long time now and idk how to deal with it. I think it was easier for me to push you away and say that I was fine coming here on my own but I was hurting and didnt want to let you in and I’m sorry for that. I guess what I’m trying to say is I miss you and I wish you were here and I painted this because I missed you._

He sends the attachment and starts typing again. 

_I know I’ll be home soon but I just thought you should know where I’m at right now. I hope you’ve had a good day. Tell me all about it when you can. <3_

It’s not too long after until Dan calls. 

Phil answers. 

“Hi.” He says, his voice is small, and somehow he feels like his heart is on the line. 

“Hi,” Dan says, and he can hear him smiling, “I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

Somehow Dan knows that Phil doesn’t have the energy to talk about everything so he tells him about his day in great detail that only Dan knows how to dramatise and provide. 

And Phil lays in bed feeling so grateful that there was just one person out there in the world who loved him and made him feel like maybe the world wasn’t ending and that he was safe. 

* 

Martyn makes breakfast the next morning, it’s pancakes but Phil isn’t complaining. His mother places a hand on Phil’s shoulder and squeezes gently before sitting down across from him. She’s ready for the day from what it looks like. 

Phil stayed up late playing cards with his dad and watching old reruns until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. He fell asleep to Dan on the other line again, it just seemed how the rest of his last couple days were going to play out he supposed. 

“I’m running into town later if you want to come. We can go to the bakery you like so much.” His mother pours syrup over her pancakes and Phil grabs it from her with a small smile. 

The bakery wasn’t the same without Dan, but it would be good to get out of the house for a while.

“Sure mum,” Phil agrees and takes his first bite of the pancake. 

He looks over at Martyn with a grin. 

“Not bad.” He says and Martyn rolls his eyes. 

“I can actually cook. Unlike you.” 

Phil places a hand on his chest. 

“Martyn.” He acts offended but he was completely correct. 

Dan did a lot of cooking and when Dan didn’t want to cook they just ordered takeaway. It was nice coming here and being made meals from his mother (and now begrudgingly Martyn). It made him want to be better at _his_ home. 

*

After breakfast he gets dressed for the day and waits for his mum in the car. She seems overly excited about running errands but it was one of the first sunny days since he’s been here. He can’t deny that it was nice to be able to have some sun after such gloomy couple of days. He rolled the window down and stuck his head out to enjoy it. 

Martyn was in the backseat deciding last minute to join their outing. They went to the grocery store, his mum was still deciding on what to cook but she bought enough food for at least a couple of days and Phil didn’t understand why. 

Phil bought a chocolate bar fully knowing he was going to the bakery after their errands. It was the small things that made him smile. He shakes his head at himself as they make their way. 

He gets a donut and croissant to go. He doesn’t wait to eat it, _life was too short_, he thought. 

They’re on their way home and Martyn seems to be smiling and laughing at something and when Phil asks he brushes him off. Phil doesn’t know if the weather gave them all extra energy but he’ll take it. 

Phil helps grab the groceries from the boot. 

Martyn holds the door open for him and he’s greeted with laughter. 

It was a laugh that he knows well. 

Dan, Cornelia and his dad are sitting on the couch with mugs of coffee in their hand and Phil almost drops all the groceries. 

“Surprise.” Dan and Cornelia say at the same time, placing the mugs on the coffee table before getting up. Cornelia grabs the groceries from Phil who’s just standing there frozen. He’s unable to move or get a word out. 

Dan doesn’t say anything, he just walks into Phil’s space and he holds him until Phil can process everything and hug him back. Maybe he’ll feel embarrassed by it later, but he doesn’t hesitate burying himself in the crook of his neck and smelling an odd mixture of his parents home, his home, and Dan. He supposed there wasn’t much of a difference with the last two things. 

“Why?” Phil asks and he can feel Dan laugh. 

He feels another pair of arms wrap around him and Phil doesn’t have to guess to know that Cornelia is on her tippy toes hugging him from behind. 

“Because Dan and I got tired of waiting for you lot to come back.” She teased, giving him one last good squeeze. 

He knows that it’s more than that, but it makes him smile. 

“All my kids are here.” Kath says, and he can feel her next to him, wrapping her arms around Dan and saying hello to him. 

When Phil finally pulls away, Dan is studying his face. He reaches out like he’s going to cup his cheek but he feels his thumb against the side of his mouth. 

“Why do you have chocolate all over your face?” Dan asks. 

Phil covers his face for a second. 

“I had a chocolate donut in the car.” 

Dan shakes his head with an endeared smile, holding Phil’s face in his hands now. 

“We had a whole plan.” Nigel places a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “While you ran errands I went to pick them up. It’s why your mother took so bloody long at the grocery store.”

“It’s also why she bought so much food.” Phil was slowly connecting the dots—it was no wonder why they both were acting so weird in the car. 

Phil wraps his arms around Dan while he listens to his mum talk about what she’s making for dinner. Dan has a tight grip on Phil. 

It’s not long before everyone pairs off. 

“I want to go for a walk.” Phil says. 

Dan nods. “Let’s go.” 

*

Phil gives Dan back one of his jackets but he keeps the one with the rock still in the pocket.

They walk up the hill both a little breathless when they reach the top. They haven’t said much yet, Phil doesn’t know if they really need to, they somehow were able to communicate with each other almost silently and have been for so many years. 

Phil reaches out to poke Dan’s cheek and tug on a strand of hair. 

Dan just smiles, reaching out to grab Phil by the jacket to pull him closer. He hasn’t been gone for that long, but he feels like he’s lived a thousand lifetimes the past couple of days. Phil runs his hands through Dan’s hair, noticing that it’s just starting to curl at the tips. 

“You didn’t have to come,” Phil starts off saying, “I’m glad that you did but you didn’t have to.” 

Dan shrugs. “I wanted to.” 

Phil wraps his arms around Dan again. It felt odd to be doing it so out in the open, he knew that they were safe, but it felt unfamiliar, but he welcomed it. 

“You were having a hard time. I… I know you would have done the same for me.” 

Phil felt that lump in his throat, overwhelmed with the emotions that he had been keeping in because he was afraid. He was afraid that if he let them out he wouldn’t know if it would ever stop. 

“We used to come out here all the time when we were visiting my grandparents. Way before my parents moved here. It was like the big reunion with all my cousins, we had competitions with these rocks to see who could throw it the farthest. I never won. The loser got pushed down the hill. It was a very dangerous game that nearly led to my death,” Phil says with a small smile. 

Dan rolls his eyes. “And people say _I’m_ the dramatic one.”

Phil laughs before taking a deep breath, “I just kind of felt like this rock I’ve been keeping around in my pocket. I had all these rough edges thinking that if I just tried and tried to hold it in, tried to pretend I was fine, that it would somehow soften… I don’t know if this metaphor works—but basically what I’m trying to say is, I’m tired and I’m scared. I just had this constant stream of, I want my dad to live a long life. I want my dad to be able to wake up at the same time he always does with his coffee and his paper and go on walks with my mum, and take pictures along the way that he’ll paint later. My anxiety was so bad it just felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like I was just drowning in it.”

Dan listens. He listens, and he waits, and he holds him. 

“I don’t know what it feels like Phil, I can’t imagine the kind of frustration and fear that you may be feeling…. But I do know that you don’t have to go through it alone anymore. We can stay here as long as you want to. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Phil doesn’t say anything, he just closes the gap and kisses him like he’s been dying to do since he got here. 

When he pulls away he notices in the distance, his parents, and Martyn and Cornelia making their way up the hill. Phil waves to them. They’re laughing at something, the kind of laughter where you throw your head back and feel it in your bones, it’s the kind of laughter that brings healing. 

The conversations get lost over time, each person overlapping the other in a way that only a family does. 

“We’re going to go up the hill more. You can actually see the view now that the fog has lifted.” Nigel says with a pat on the cheek.

Phil takes the rock out of his pocket and he throws it into the ocean. 

He doesn’t look back to see how far it went.

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos appreciated!
> 
> talk to me on tumblr/twitter: **@nihilismdan.**
> 
> [reblog](https://nihilismdan.tumblr.com/post/188123156108/when-it-feels-like-nothing-else-matters-will-you) on tumblr.


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